


paint me in trust (ill be your best friend)

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Hufflepuff Phil Lester, M/M, One Shot, Slytherin Dan Howell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2017-07-04
Packaged: 2018-11-23 12:38:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11402562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Phil is clumsy and shy, Dan is much nicer than Phil thinks, and both of them are too awkward for their own good.





	paint me in trust (ill be your best friend)

_Dan Howell. How the heads turn when he walks down the halls, stirring up giggles and whispers. It wasn’t particularly surprising, considering his trademark smirk, freckles like stars scattered across the night sky, warm chocolate eyes that would make anyone melt on the spot, his unruly wavy hair that Phil definitely did not dream of touching—Dan Howell was not unattractive. Quite the opposite, actually._

Phil Lester bit his tongue in concentration as, almost subconsciously, a picture of Daniel James Howell emerged onto his sketchpad.

Nearing voices drew him out of his thoughts, and he shuts the sketchbook quickly, feeling a wave of embarrassment and regret. _What if Dan finds out? I don’t want to be seen as a creep, or a stalker._

The voices drew closer, revealing themselves as two of Phil’s housemates.

“Let’s go, we’re going to be late. I don’t want McGonagall to yell at us.” Phil heard this, and inwardly groaned. He would take Care of Magical Creatures over Transfiguration any day. Reluctantly, he shoved his sketchbook into his bag and rushed out of the common room.  

He was always rather clumsy _—_ no, no, scratch that:  _extremely_ clumsy _—_ and that added with his present hurry, he takes no more than five steps towards Professor Mcgonagall's classroom before crashing into a tall figure.

The other shouts with alarm, but doesn’t topple over with Phil’s weight. Instead, Phil feels arms wrap around his torso, effectively cushioning him from his ungraceful fall.

“Oh, Merlin, I’m _—_ I’m so sorry,” Phil stammered, feeling his face heat up. “I didn’t see you. I-I thought I was going to be late, I-”

“It’s fine,” said a very familiar voice.

Phil felt his heart stutter, and looked up to see Dan Howell, gazing down at him with a bit of a teasing look in his eyes _—_ chocolate-coloured eyes, and Phil realised that the rumours weren’t just rumours: they really did make Phil melt.

And they weren’t just _brown,_ either; Phil was definitely about to use the wrong pencil crayon for his drawing _—_ there was a unique sort of depth in them, and Phil scrambled to remember their exact colour.

He heard a slight cough, and his thought process of whether to shade with black or grey was abruptly cut off.

Dan was looking at him with a raised eyebrow. Phil realised he had been staring, for how long, he didn’t know, and Dan might as well take a lighter and hold it up to his face for how much Phil was blushing.

Then Phil realised Dan’s arms were still around him, and, screw the lighter, it could be a bloody _blowtorch_ and it wouldn’t make Phil blush as much as he was right now.

Phil made a small noise in his throat and quickly untangled himself from Dan’s arms (and immediately missing their comfort, which then made him blush even more, and by now he was shocked his face didn’t burst into flames right then and there.)

“Alright, then,” Dan said quietly, grinning a bit, his eyes twinkling _—_ Phil didn’t even know eyes could _do_ that (and then he immediately told himself to knock it off; he wasn’t going to get caught staring again _._ )

Handing him the Transfiguration textbook that had crashed to the ground, Dan gave Phil a light smirk.

"I’ll see you around, then?” he asked casually.

 _“Um yes,”_ Phil muttered, barely audible, taking the textbook from Dan's hands in a daze. And then he turned around and ran away.

He was quite late for Transfiguration.

* * *

Phil Lester has always intrigued Dan. Ever since the first day he saw him at Magical Menagerie, he has always wanted to talk to him. But every time he steeled himself to do so, Phil was either chatting alongside his friends, or he was nowhere to be seen. Dan would always resort to quick glances at the adorable Hufflepuff.

And, of course, when Dan was finally given the chance to talk with Phil, he blew it.

Watching as Phil disappeared from his view, Dan kicked himself for not making a move. He sighed, and began to walk away to Transfiguration.

Something caught his eye as he took the first few steps, and he stopped.

A sketchbook. A doodle-covered, well-worn sketchbook with the name “Phil Lester” printed neatly in the top right corner.

Picking it up, Dan realised he was definitely late for Transfiguration now, and shrugged. _Whatever._ Deciding to skip today’s class, his train of thought goes back to the sketchbook.

Dan would never invade anyone’s privacy, but, looking at the smooth leather cover and tracing a finger over Phil’s name, he found that he couldn’t stop himself.

Leaning against the cold brick wall of Hogwarts, he turned the page.

Sketches of animals covered most of the pages, small quick doodles to complex full-on drawings, most of which were detailed pen sketches of lions and various birds. Dan unconsciously smiled. _Leave it to Phil Lester to fill his sketchbook with animals._ Hoping to find a sketch of a llama, Dan continued to flip the pages, until one particular page made him stop dead in his tracks.

It was… him. Dan Howell. Looking straight back at him with his trademark smirk, the facsimile to the genuine.

Dan felt his pulse quicken as he studied the sketch. Phil actually drew him. It was so _intricate_ , and so  _detailed._ He'd even captured the light in his eyes, the shine of his hair, and got all his freckles in the right places. It looked like he was jumping out of the page.

The bell rang, and Dan slammed the sketchbook closed in his surprise. Students began to file out of classrooms, but Dan didn’t notice any of them.

 _Phil,_ he thought with determination. _I need to find PhiI_.

* * *

Exiting Professor Mcgonagall’s classroom, Phil realised that he had a free period and reached into his bag to finish his drawing of Dan. He groped around his bag, but the comforting feel of the leather cover was nowhere to be found.

Phil frowned, and poured everything out of his bag. The sketchbook was nowhere to be seen. Panic started to rise in his chest. _No one can see what’s in that book. And if Dan…_

 _Dan!_ Phil kicked himself for being so clumsy. Why didn’t he check his bag after the incident with Dan? How could he be so careless?

“Hey, Phil!”

Phil could recognize that voice anywhere. He tried to calm his rapid breathing, and looked over in its direction.

Dan Howell stood across the hallway, waving a leather covered sketchbook.

Phil felt his heart plummet, and took off running in the opposite direction.

The footsteps behind him grew louder and heavier, until suddenly Phil felt warm fingers wrapped around his wrist, gentle but firm.

“Whoa, whoa. Phil! Stop. Why are you running?”

Phil's breath caught in his throat. “I really don’t want to talk right now,” he muttered, looking away.

Dan studied Phil carefully. “Um, that’s OK,” he said cautiously. “I just wanted to give you back your sketchbook.” The sketchbook was awkwardly placed in the crook of Phil’s arm. “Your sketches, they’re really good,” Dan continued, stammering slightly.

Why was he being so nice? Dan was mocking him, for sure; Phil could feel his eyes burning up.

“You’re very talented, Phil,” Dan kept saying, not seeing Phil’s face. “I—”

Phil couldn’t take it anymore.

“Just do it already!” he yelled. Tears began to form in his eyes. Slowly, they made their way down his cheek, towards his chin. Dan stood, shocked into silence.

“Well? Aren’t you going to yell at me for drawing you? Aren’t you going to tell the whole school that I’m a freak? That I’m _—_ that I’m a stalker?” Phil’s voice broke, and he sunk down onto the floor, covering his face in his hands, cursing himself for being so open, so weak.

He heard Dan make a small noise, and then he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Phil, please," Dan said quietly, and the plea in his voice was so jarring, so genuine, that Phil raised his head, looking at Dan with watery eyes.

Dan looked right back with those gorgeous eyes, and despite what had just happened, Phil couldn't help but get lost in them.

“Please stop crying. I don’t know how to comfort people." Dan swallowed, and continued. "I’m not going to think you're a freak for drawing me. Actually, I’m very flattered.” He smiled a bit. “That’s the first time anyone has made me that attractive.” 

“You really think so?” Phil dared to hope. Never had he have anyone give his drawings a second glance, much less compliment them.

Phil felt Dan’s hand on his cheek and flinched.

“Sorry.” Dan quickly drew his hand away.

“No, that was... nice." Phil blushed, his voice dwindling into a mumble. "It's just... I just never had anyone be so sweet to me before.” His cheeks were growing redder by the second.

There was a silence, and he looked up to see Dan wearing his trademark smirk, but somehow it was softer, kinder. Embarrassed, Phil looked back down.

"Oh, Phil," he heard Dan mutter, and suddenly there was a pair of warm lips pressing softly against his forehead. Phil didn't flinch, and he closed his eyes, feeling an overwhelming sense of comfort.

When they pulled away, Phil looked up to see Dan smiling down at him. His dimples were clearly visible. Phil made a mental note to add this to his drawing.

“Hey,” Dan said softly. “We have a Transfiguration test next week. Do you want to help me study?”

Phil’s eyes widened.

“Yes. I do.” He sounded more sure, more confident, than he ever had.

Dan smiled, and it warmed his entire face. “I’ll see you at lunch, then.”

And with that, Phil jogged back to the Hufflepuff common room to finish his portrait of Daniel James Howell.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is actually written by a friend of mine, who was too lazy to make an account! I'm just the editor :)  
> If you like it, pleasepleaseplease leave a review, and check out her tumblr as well--> chochanng.tumblr.com


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